Anybody Out There?
by kagekamay
Summary: Quinn sneaks onto the stage after New Directions performs. Little does she know she's being watched. Spoilers for 3x01.Fabang friendship and Faberry. Oneshot.


**AN: So long story short, there's this video going around Tumblr and it inspired me to write this oneshot. The song is Echo by Jason Walker, and I recommend you listen to it while reading. Enjoy! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee**

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><p>All the members of New Directions were gone by the time Quinn mustered up the courage to walk onto the stage. She wasn't sure why she had watched them perform. She had just been wandering the hallways when she had heard the music, and decided to check it out. They had all been there, singing their hearts out and looking so much like a family that she had wanted to run; but she couldn't. She was forced to watch as they twirled around each other, each smile sending a pang to her chest. One thing was clear. She didn't belong here with them.<p>

Quinn walked over to one of the purple pianos, the least damaged of the three. She ran her fingers absentmindedly over the ivory keys before sitting down on the bench. Her left hand landed on a particular chord and all of a sudden a tune was slipping from her fingers. Her throat felt constricted because she knew the song all too well, and soon the words dropped from her mouth, unbidden and raw. Her voice was halting and barely above a whisper, but each word cut through her with their truth. Her defeat and regret personified in song.

_Hello, hello_

_anybody out there?_

_'cause I don't hear a sound_

_alone, alone_

_I don't really know where the world is but I miss it now_

She didn't think, allowing her emotions to wash over her for the first time in months as her fingers moved over the keys. She needed this, to express herself in one of the few ways she knew how. Quinn knew she would shut down again, after all she was a Fabray, but for now it was a relief to acknowledge her hurt.

_I'm out on the edge and I'm screaming my name_

_like a fool at the top of my lungs_

_sometimes when I close my eyes I pretend I'm alright_

_but it's never enough_

_cause my echo, echo_

_is the only voice coming back_

_my shadow, shadow_

_is the only friend that I have_

Tears were falling onto the piano, and Quinn felt her fingers slip more than once. The regret was bearing down on her, making it difficult to breathe and nearly impossible to keep singing.

_Listen, listen_

_I would take a whisper if_

_that's all you had to give_

_but it isn't, isn't_

_you could come and save me_

_try to chase the crazy right out of my head_

She longed to be saved, to be heard. But she knew deep down that nobody cared enough to see. Well…her fingers faltered as a familiar ache began to blossom in her chest. _She_ seemed to care. _She_ had been the only one to seek her out, and Quinn had secretly been looking forward to it. She had wanted Rachel to see what she had become, to reject her like everyone else had. She didn't know why, but she needed to see the revulsion in Rachel's eyes, to have some sort of confirmation that she was as terrible as she knew she was. Except Rachel hadn't looked at her like that. She had been sad – genuinely _sad_ – that she wasn't in the choir room. Even she couldn't lie and pretend she didn't see the sincerity in the brunette's eyes. Quinn had been so close to saying something to make Rachel hurt so that she would leave her alone, but she couldn't do it. She was so tired of fighting, of pretending.

_I'm out on the edge and I'm screaming my name_

_like a fool at the top of my lungs_

_sometimes when I close my eyes I pretend I'm alright_

_but it's never enough_

_cause my echo, echo_

_is the only voice coming back_

_my shadow, shadow_

_is the only friend that I have_

Her voice grew louder as she came to the bridge of the song. Her face was tilted toward the ceiling and she closed her eyes. The tears were still rolling down her cheeks, and she was so lost in the song that she didn't hear the door open, nor did she hear the small gasp as the boy watched her with wide eyes.

_I don't wanna be down and_

_I just wanna feel alive and_

_get to see your face again but 'til then_

_Just my echo, my shadow_

_You're my only friend_

Mike was just going back to the auditorium to grab his backpack since he had left it there after the glee number when he had stumbled upon her. At first, he was unsure how to react, as he took in the black punk trappings that had recently become a part of Quinn's wardrobe. That and the pink hair make for a rather imposing figure, but at the moment he could sense there was something off about her. Quinn was perched on the edge of the piano bench swaying slightly to the music. Her voice, normally so sweet and tremulous, was tinged with self-loathing, and it made his heart thud painfully in his chest. This was Quinn at her most vulnerable, her most open, and to him it felt like he was staring into a yawning black hole.

_I'm out on the edge and I'm screaming my name_

_like a fool at the top of my lungs_

_sometimes when I close my eyes I pretend I'm alright_

_but it's never enough_

The last note was hit roughly, the last word choked out through Quinn's clenched teeth. The notes jarred horribly together as Quinn crashed her hands down on the keys. A strangled sob echoed in the room, and Mike saw her hands trembling as she fought to keep the last remnants of her composure. She gritted her teeth, trying to control her heaving chest before she started again, her voice shaking almost as badly as her hands.

_cause my echo, echo_

_oh my shadow, shadow_

_Hello, hello_

_anybody out there?_

The last chord reverberated around the room, and Quinn allowed the sound to hang in the air untarnished, while Mike could only watch.

It's as if his eyes had been opened, because now he could see the pain in Quinn's expression, in the way she closed her eyes, her brows scrunching together as she took in a quick breath. Her head dropped into her hands, and he could tell she was trying to curl in on herself, to hide from whatever was causing her pain.

Sensing this as his moment to leave, he tried to slip out quietly, but he hadn't been watching where he was going. He tripped over his own feet, and his muttered curse caused the blonde to stiffen. She whirled around, hazel eyes darting around the room for the source of the sound until they landed on him.

"Hey," he said, awkwardly holding up a hand in greeting.

Panic flitted across her face, but it's gone so fast that he wondered if it was ever there in the first place. Now her face was blank, uncaring.

"I was just uh…coming back to get my bag," he mumbled, "I didn't think anyone would be in here."

She nodded and focused back on the piano, refusing to look at him as he came closer to the stage and grabbed his bag. He shot another look at her, but she continued to ignore him. Her face was an impassive mask, her mouth a hard straight line, the very picture of the Head Cheerio that Mike had long grown accustomed to. If Mike hadn't seen her sing a moment ago, he wouldn't have thought anything was wrong.

But he had seen her, her face contorted as her usual stoicism fell away, revealing the broken girl underneath. It was so contradictory to the girl Mike had known that he couldn't let his curiosity go.

With a sigh, he jumped up onto the stage and sat down so his legs were dangling off the edge. He craned his head back to look at Quinn, weighing his options. He didn't know why the heck he was doing it, but something told him Quinn needed someone at the moment, whether she was willing to acknowledge it or not. Mike could already sense the awkwardness descending on the pair of them, so he cleared his throat and tried again.

"So…"

Quinn's jaw tightened, so Mike rushed on before she could stop him.

"You know we're always here for you, right?"

He knew he was pushing his luck, and he winced when the blonde's hazel eyes flashed dangerously. Anger was rolling off of her in waves, but for the first time Mike also saw the sadness that she tried so hard to hide.

She let out a harsh laugh, shaking her head in disbelief, "You really think that's going to change anything?"

He shrugged, "Not really. But I think you need to at least know that the door's always open."

Quinn remained silent for a heartbeat, playing a random assortment of notes on the piano.

"I'm _not_ coming back."

She enunciated every word, but the force of her statement only made Mike that much more certain that she was trying to convince herself more than him. He could tell she didn't want to think anymore, that she just wanted him to let it go, but he couldn't do it.

"We miss you, you know."

He said it softly, barely above a whisper. For a moment, there was complete and utter silence. Then Quinn abruptly stood up from the bench and he knew he had pushed too far.

"Quinn…" he called, swinging his legs around so he was standing, but she thrust out a hand to keep him at bay, cold fury emanating from her every movement.

"Just don't," she said harshly, her eyes shining brightly with an emotion Mike couldn't quite place.

"Don't bother lying to me and saying that we're a family and whatever other crap you think will work, because Rachel's already tried that. It might be true for everyone else, but it's not for me."

Her voice hitched in her throat for a second, but she continued, "This is who I am now."

She gestured to her outfit, her eyes almost pleading with him to believe her.

"Okay."

She blinked and looked at him disbelievingly.

"That's it? Just okay?"

"Okay," he said again, offering her a halfhearted smile, "I'm not going to force you to come back to glee, and if you need some time to yourself than who am I to say no?"

He took a breath, pausing to take in her expression before he continued, "But are you happy?"

She scoffed, but he didn't let it dissuade him, "I'm serious, Quinn. Can you look me in the eye and tell me that you're happy?"

She stared at him, seemingly at a loss for words.

"You can't, can you?" he said it so simply, and even he is surprised by the sadness in his voice.

"It doesn't matter," she finally said, turning slightly away from him, her voice thick with tears, "I've accepted it."

"Hey," he tentatively approached her and lifted her chin. He regarded her for a brief second before wiping away the stray tears from her cheeks, "everyone deserves to be happy."

She let out a short disparaging chuckle, gently pushing his hands away, "Not me, Chang."

Her words came out distant, passionless. There was an air of finality about them, but Mike wasn't ready to let her get off that easily.

"I don't think you believe that. You think you're such a good liar, that you can fool even yourself," he shook his head reaching for her hand, "but you _can't_, Quinn."

She yanked her hand out of his grasp, a small sneer forming on her face.

"And what do you know about me?" she snarled.

"I think you're too scared to admit that people actually care about you. That's why you're doing all of this, pushing us away. It's easier to hate yourself when nobody cares about you, right?"

"Don't go there," she threatened, but it didn't hold the same venom that it usually did. She was trembling he noted, trying to edge away from him, her pain and regret shining as clearly as it had moments before.

"It's not going to keep working, Quinn. You can't keep shutting people out."

Her lip trembled, and she grabbed onto the piano for support, all pretense of control gone.

"You don't have to talk to me, but maybe someone like Rachel – "

The color drained from her face, and immediately Mike knew he had said something wrong, "Wh-why would I want to open up to _her_ of all people?"

Her anger sounded forced, transparent. She wasn't trying very hard to convince him, which made him all the more aware how truly tired she was.

So he shrugged, giving her a knowing look, to say she wasn't fooling him this time, "You tell me."

"I…"

He smiled weakly at her, and fear flashed in her eyes as she understood what he was saying. What he had realized.

Mike knew he had gotten to her when Quinn whirled around, storming away from him and slamming the stage door behind her. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. He felt guilty for pushing her, but her reaction plus the song she had sung had already given her away. Maybe now she would be able to sort through things, he thought, shouldering his bag and leaving through a different door. Or at the very least she would stop lying to herself.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't see the small brunette hidden toward the back of the auditorium. Her face was still glistening with the tracks the tears had left behind when she had heard the blonde first begin to sing. Feelings she had thought she had buried came roaring back to the surface, thoughts unspoken, wishes never voiced. Rachel couldn't deny that she cared about Quinn, more than her solos, more than her need for security, definitely more than the boy she was supposedly dating. She stifled a sob and let her feet carry her backwards, away from the accursed stage. She turned to run, but Quinn's song followed her, haunting her with its plea, which she realized was now directed at her.

_I just wanna feel alive again…_


End file.
